


When Eos is at Peace

by shotgunsinlace



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rimming, Size Difference, Sloppy Makeouts, Sub!Gladiolus, Voice Kink, mild bondage, sensory play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 01:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13447170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunsinlace/pseuds/shotgunsinlace
Summary: Gladio propositions Prompto to a rump in the kingly suite. Prompto enthusiastically agrees and isn't at all surprised to find he's left the door unlocked for their liege and his advisor to join once the endlessly boring political meetings are done for the day.





	When Eos is at Peace

**Author's Note:**

> I surrendered my life to FFXV seven months ago and haven't looked back. Easily the best choice I've made considering it's gotten me back into the writing groove.

Life as a Kingsglaive would be far more interesting if he had something to do other than sit on a fancy chair, legs unceremoniously over the armrest, as he taps away on his phone. Two hours of King’s Knight and endlessly scrolling through his social media accounts can only do so much to keep him entertained.

Luckily, Gladio seems to be in the same boat.

He’s leafed through his book, put it down, paced the room, fiddled with his phone, and paced some more. He reminds Prompto of a behemoth trapped in an enclosure, big and blustery, antsy for something to tackle.

Slipping the phone into his pocket, Prompto stretches across the chair with a loud groan when several bones crack. Either he’s getting old or he’s not training hard enough, because as of late that groggy lethargy has continuously made his body its home and he doesn’t like it. He needs to be sharp. Ready to go at a moment’s notice.

Peace reigns over the lands of Eos. The occasional skirmishes between Niflheim and Accordo are promptly squashed before they can get out of hand, and Lucis looms like the superpower it currently is. Politics are messy, not as fast-working as Prompto had expected, but it’s a slow and constant process to achieve the true unity their king so avidly hopes for.

And speaking of young, hot kings...

“How long do you think this is gonna go for?” says Prompto, swinging his feet. “It’s definitely been more than four hours.”

Gladio stops his pacing only to cross his arms over his chest. “I know just as much as you do.”

“No word from Iggy?”

“Nope.”

Prompto huffs.

He wants to say he misses the days back on the road when they all called the shots about what to do and when. A hunt here, an errand there, all for the spare gil and experience. However, it is nice to not have impending doom hovering over one’s head.

He’s just so bored all the time when he’s not training new recruits in bullet arts, that is. He gets a serious kick out of seeing freshly plucked cadets go from being at a loss of how to hold a gun to whipping riffles around like it’s second nature.

Otherwise, Prompto stands guard in offices when neighboring ambassadors drop in to discuss treaties and other political jargon. He stands by Noctis for hours, unmoving and hands firmly at his back in case anyone decides on making a bad choice. Not that anyone really tries. Doesn’t matter how fast an enemy may think they are – Prompto is _faster_.

Today’s meeting is purely economics with their own council and required neither the King’s Shield or the Captain of the Kingsglaive to be present. A bad move, Gladio continuously stated. Noctis never graced a living soul with his presence without them, regardless of how safe and controlled the environment is.

Ignis has remarked on them needing a break.

Rich coming from the Royal Advisor who hardly ever sleeps.

“Hey, you wanna do something?”

“Hell yeah, I do.” Prompto swings into a sitting position, looking up at Gladio with a grin. “What you thinking, big guy?”

Gladio hums thoughtfully, looking from Prompto to the neatly made bed at the center of the room.

Prompto follows his gaze, grin turning into a far more mischievous smirk. “We could, uh, sneak into Noct’s room and mess up the royal bedsheets.”

“I’m down if you are.”

“No need to tell me twice.”

Jumping up to his feet, Prompto jogs out of Gladio’s room without looking back.

For the umpteenth time since Noctis’ ascension to the throne, he’s grateful for the living quarters they were provided. Traditionally meant for the monarch’s immediate family, Noctis boldly declared the three of them as such.

It took Prompto a while to get used to the luxury of living in the Citadel, permanently sharing a space that is both connected yet private with the rest of the guys. On numerous occasions has he slipped into either of their rooms to feed off their body heat, or for the simple comfort of quiet company.

Noctis’ room is by far his favorite. Intimidating, at first, to walk into a Kingly Suite and be utterly gobsmacked by the opulence of it all, but at least the bed is big enough for four. Conveniently.

Prompto sheds the outer coat of his uniform as he goes, dropping it onto Noctis’ desk once he enters the bedroom. His boots are next, and he hums appreciatively when he’s able to freely wiggle his toes against the insanely soft carpet.

Gladio closes the door behind him. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Don’t hurt yourself there, bud.”

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind.”

Prompto jogs over to him, stands toe to toe and leans up as far as he can to look him in the eye. “I’m just joking,” he says, planting a kiss to Gladio’s chin before he can move away. “A gil for your thoughts.”

Gladio does not, in fact, move away. Instead, he picks up Prompto by the waist and drapes him over his shoulder, slams him onto Noctis’ bed with enough force to make his entire body bounce.

Prompto goes with a fit of hysterical laughter, arms extended for Gladio to settle between them.

They kiss, giggles gradually becoming breathy laughs the longer it goes. Gladio’s tongue prods and swipes without mercy, luring Prompto’s own into his mouth to suck. He pulls away with an obscene smack, and Prompto arches his back to gain any sort of pressure against his groin.

“Tell me what you were thinking about,” says Prompto, softly running his fingertips along the scar on Gladio’s face. They’re both still fully clothed, and the leather of their uniforms squeak every time they shift.

One of Gladio’s hands trails from Prompto’s hip, over his chest, to rest against his neck. He doesn’t apply any sort of pressure, but he could, and that alone gets Prompto going.

“I want to be on bottom,” Gladio says in a rush, thumb lightly pressing against the sensitive area of Prompto’s throat.

Prompto nods. “That can be arranged.”

“No, I don’t mean it like that.”

“Ooh?”

Gladio licks his way into Prompto’s mouth again. The hand not holding onto his neck slips down to cup his groin through the thick fabric of his pants, drawing a low moan out of him.

Pulling away, Gladio’s voice is gruffer than usual. “I want to be tied to the bed and I want you to do whatever you want to me,” he says. “Anything’s fair game.”

The haze of lust already clouds Prompto’s gaze, but the peculiar request pushes him deeper beneath the foggy surface of desire. Those golden eyes peering down at him makes Prompto nod before he can fully assimilate the situation. “You want me to… to dominate you?”

Gladio nods without hesitation. “If that’s fine.”

Prompto pushes him off in order to sit upright and use it as an opportunity to slip himself onto Gladio’s lap. “Fair warning, I don’t know shit about being a dom.”

“Doesn’t have to be a dominant and submissive dynamic,” Gladio explains. He gets to work on Prompto’s uniform, maneuvering it with ease. “Just get on top and do whatever feels good to you.”

“Say I want to suck on your nips.”

“Do it.”

“Fuck your thighs?”

“Fuck the back of my knees if you feel like it.”

Prompto snorts.

The top of his uniform falls to the ground and Gladio is already pressing kisses to whichever parts of his chest he can reach.

“And if I want to ride your cock?” This he whispers against Gladio’s ear, and it earns him two large hands gripping his waist hard enough to bruise. “Bet you’d like that.”

Out of the four of them, Gladio and Prompto were the last to finally fall into bed with each other. Prompto can’t really remember how it happened, only that one day it went from strictly platonic touches to aggressively making out in the backseat of the Regalia. It’s been years since the four of them stumbled into this type of relationship, but there are some things they just haven’t done.

Like Gladio physically being inside of Prompto, for instance. Not out of any sort of reservation they may have – those are practically non-existent between them, but because Prompto thinks it’s impossible to take something so big and actually enjoy it.

Anal isn’t his favorite, but he’ll bend over and let Noctis take him if the mood is right. He likes it when Noct splays over his back, growling into his ear, mostly because he’s of a decent size. Ignis refuses to do so until Prompto is comfortable enough with the idea of it, which he appreciates.

Gladio’s a monster.

Prompto never considered taking any dick ever. Until the age of twenty, he considered himself straight through and through, the crush he’d been harboring for his best friend since childhood doesn’t count. Now, he’ll pretty much do anything to fuck until his knees give out and he’s covered in his lovers’ cum.

“Eos to Prompto.”

“Huh, what? I’m here, I’m here.”

“I asked if you were sure.”

“I’m never sure about anything ever but I’m totally willing to sit on your dick if I’m calling the shots.”

Gladio snorts, smacking Prompto’s ass in an attempt to get him off. “Let’s get this show on the road. Grab some of Noct’s belts.”

Legs wobbly, Prompto crosses the room to rummage through Noctis’ closet. He’s only able to find the belts hanging from a hook because Ignis keeps the area so tidy, otherwise it would have taken him forever. He plucks two before thinking better of it, takes two more. After a moment, he grabs another one just in case.

Gladio’s stripped down to nothing but the ink on his back, and he flexes to show off his glorious body. From broad shoulders to the valley of his back, right down to the perfectly sculpted ass and thighs, Prompto marvels at how he ever considered himself straight to begin with.

He turns around, a hand lazily pumping his flaccid cock, and Prompto wants to keep it nice and warm in his mouth until it chokes him.

“Well?” Prompto blinks up at him. “Where’d you want me?”

“Bed,” he says, clears his throat. “Get on the bed.”

Gladio does as he’s told, making himself comfortable by stacking a handful of pillows behind his head. He clenches his fists and flexes his fingers, rolls his shoulders as if to relax for what’s to come. It hits Prompto then, that this is exactly what Gladio needs.

“Last chance to back out,” says Prompto, crawling onto the massive bed. It’s not entirely true given that all Gladio has to do is say so and he’ll stop immediately. Aside from the fact that he’s perfectly capable of tearing the belts without much effort.

“Ain’t never backed out before. Sure as hell ain’t starting now.”

The sensation of fluttering wings in Prompto’s stomach is nothing new, but he quells it with the thought that this is entirely consensual. Gladio asked for this. Prompto can’t possibly hurt him.

Before Gladio can ask if he’s sure in turn, Prompto fastens a belt around his wrist and ties the opposite end to the headboard. They test for give, and Gladio nods in admiration that his skills are just as sharp as they were forever ago. “You can still tie a mean knot, blondie.”

“Not the one that matters, though.” Prompto crawls over him to get his other hand.

“You can if you pick one.”

“I can’t just pick one,” Prompto says, affronted that Gladio would even suggest it. He pokes his side hard enough to make him twitch, but the belt holds fast when he tries grabbing him. “My heart and loins belong equally to the three of you.”

“Sure.”

Prompto moves to fasten Gladio’s ankles, but not before he stops to teasingly drag his teeth against the soft bit just under his belly button. As he had hoped, his cock twitches, but Prompto continues on undeterred.

Gladio groans, wiggling his hips in an attempt to be tantalizing. “You’re a high ranking official now,” he says.

“Cause I’m cool like that.”

“Technically, if he so chose, it’s legal for you to marry into royalty.” Gladio looks down at Prompto with a knowing arch to his eyebrows. “According to Lucian law, even the king is up for grabs.”

Prompto’s hands still for half a second before he continues on his mission. “We’re practically married already,” he jokes. “What’s the point of a piece of paper saying so? Besides… it wouldn’t be the same without you and Iggy.”

“How romantic of you.”

Gladio drops the subject and Prompto appreciate him for it. Right now, he doesn’t want to think about futures and uncertainties. What he wants is to make Gladio feel good, let him let go and lose himself in the pleasure Prompto can bring him.

Prompto admires his handy work by kneeling between Gladio’s legs, every beautiful inch of him exposed to the cool air of the room. He looks stunning against the black satin of the sheets, the afternoon sun making his golden skin glow.

“I so don’t deserve this,” Prompto mumbles, offering a fleeting touch to the inside of Gladio’s thighs. “You should, uh, you should tell me why you want me to do this.”

Gladio watches him, eyes half-lidded and plump lips parting to be licked by his own tongue. “Needed a reminder of who I belonged to,” he says. “I watched you last week, training the new Glaives. Never really stopped and watched you fight in the field, the way you handle a pistol is obscene.”

“Aw, thanks.”

“Feels like I sometimes take this for granted, what the four of us have. With everything being so calm now it’s easy to forget what we’ve been through.”

A heaviness settles in Prompto’s chest, and all he can do is lean down to press a kiss to Gladio’s ribs. “Sometimes I forget what a hopeless romantic you actually are.”

“That, and I also jacked off in the showers to the thought of you three overpowering me.”

“I take that back.”

Gladio chuckles. “Get up here and make out with me.”

Prompto gladly does so, making sure to drag his body along Gladio’s as he wiggles before settling down. “You’re counting on Iggy and Noct walking in through that door any second, aren’t you?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Rather than kiss him, Prompto takes Gladio’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs, letting go only to drag his mouth up his jawline and gently nibble on his ear. His stubble feels delicious against Prompto’s lips, and he punctuates the thought by licking the area immediately beneath Gladio’s ear.

“Fucking tease.”

Prompto leans up on his hands to grin down at him, feet kicking like a kid in a candy store. “I got but a humble request for our noble Shield.”

“Name it.”

He takes a couple of seconds for the sake of building anticipation. Dirty talk isn’t his specialty, despite it being Noctis’ favorite thing, but it does come to him from time to time. Right now, he’s drawing a blank, so he turns to a quote from Ignis’ book of greatest hits.

“I want you to come gasping my name.”

Gladio stares at him before cracking up.

“Oh, come on! I can be sexy, too!” But he too is laughing, shaking his head with mild embarrassment. A long time ago he came to terms with the fact that he will never be as smooth or as sexy as Ignis.

“You know Noct’s gonna demand I choke on ‘your majesty’ when I do, right?”

Prompto thinks. “And Iggy.”

“Yup.”

“There’s only one of you…” Prompto sits up, straddling Gladio’s waist. “That just means you’re going to have to come three times today.” He shrugs. “Lucky guy.”

Gladio sobers up at that. “I ain’t twenty anymore.”

“Too bad.”

“Not enough spunk for three rounds.”

“Save it for when you’re inside me.”

Gladio jerks his arms in an attempt to grip Prompto’s thighs, but the belts do their job at keeping him still. “Now you’re talking my language, baby.”

Dirty talk may not come naturally to him, but Prompto knows what gets Gladio off the best and, luckily, it’s one of the things he’s good at.

Reaching up, Prompto rubs the back of his neck and rolls his head to get rid of some of the tension there. He rides the wave to work his shoulders, then flexes his arms. He moves, continuously, trying to unwind his muscles and settle his body for what’s to come.

Below him, Gladio watches with every ounce of attention he can muster.

Prompto can’t tell how or why, but through the years he’s picked up on certain things that push very specific buttons for them.

Gladio, for instance, likes to watch.

On more than one occasion he’s sat back on a seat and watched the three of them get down and dirty, doing nothing but slowly touch his chest until they’re spent.

He’s used Prompto’s camera equipment to record them tugging on their dicks, only to rewatch the footage in the car or when one of them is away on a trip.

As for Ignis, his mouth must be constantly on something. Sucking, biting, licking, kissing – anything that requires lips and tongue is enough to render him a mess.

Noctis’ fixation Prompto learned in high school. They would watch porn together and Noctis was often uninterested in clips without sound. It’s when the moaning starts, the grunting and broken words and loud panting that his dick is out and ready to go.

“I’m now open for requests,” Prompto says.

“Nipples,” says Gladio without missing a beat. “Give ‘em a tweak for me, will you?”

Face warm, Prompto delivers.

He tentatively touches his own chest, tracing the dips of his muscles all the way down to his abdomen. He lightly drags his nails against his skin on the way up, and cups his chest as one would a woman’s breasts. Prompto fondles himself, squeezing and kneading until he finally lets his fingers pinch the rosy buds.

A shaky sigh escapes him as he rolls them around with the pad of his finger, toys with them long enough to get his hips moving, soft sounds stumbling out of him as Gladio watches raptly.

“That’s it, Prompto.”

Warm to hot, Prompto tries to look sultry as he continues to touch himself, hands finally slipping down to grab at his groin. Pants still on, he leans up on his knees so that Gladio can see him palm his bulge, the sound of leather against his gloves obscene.

Grabbing tight, Prompto humps his hands, grinding without shame.

“That for me, baby boy? Did I make you that hard?” Gladio murmurs, ripping a whimper out of Prompto. “Wanna show me what you got inside those tight pants? Let me see your pretty little cock.”

Prompto fumbles with his zip, hands trembling with desperation. Normally he can keep his cool longer than this, but having a vulnerable Gladio underneath him has him walking a very thin line.

Awkwardly, he’s able to fling his pants off and across the room. Prompto forces himself to just sit on Gladio’s midriff, nails digging onto his thighs to keep himself from touching his aching cock and coming too early.

Before Gladio can make a snide comment, Prompto is tipping over and sucking a nipple into his mouth, making Gladio growl into the otherwise quiet room. Prompto sucks until he’s certain he’s left a bruise, as if he’d be able to drink something right out of it. He turns his attention to the other one without pause, heady with power at the way Gladio squirms.

“If you want something creamy you’re gonna have to suck on something else,” Gladio grunts out, voice strained despite trying to remain collected.

Once convinced he won’t finish then and there, Prompto spreads out over Gladio’s body, head nestled on his chest to better suckle on the pebbled nipple, cock occasionally humping Gladio’s leg.

“I don’t want us to cum until the others get here,” Prompto mumbles.

“Who else are we waiting for?”

Noctis’ voice startles Prompto, and he looks over his shoulder to spot him and Ignis locking the door behind them. The two of them look simultaneously exhausted and intrigued, and Prompto instantly feels bad about how they might have just wanted to sleep once it was all done with.

“Goodness,” Ignis says, the first to step closer to the bed and inspect the scene before him. He gingerly touches the belt attached to the headboard, then at Gladio who’s peering up at him with a saucy grin. “This is an unexpected turn of events.”

“Here we are, working our butts off, and you two are just frolicking in _my_ bed.” Noctis shakes his head, a playful glint in his eye that says he’s grateful for the distraction. “Why are you tied up?”

“Huge bounty on a behemoth on a rampage,” Prompto says, short of breath but able to laugh. “What do you guys think?”

“I think you’ve done a splendid job,” Ignis praises him, allowing his hand to ghost down Gladio’s chest and aptly land on Prompto’s cock, giving it a feather-light fondle. “And the reward?”

“Yet to collect it.”

“Good.” Ignis wastes no time stripping out of his clothing, carefully folding it and laying it down on the chair by the bed. He removes his glasses and places them on the nightstand before climbing onto the bed and sitting by them to admire the view. “I believe we are short one hunter.”

“I’m coming,” Noctis quips. He begins unlatching his raiment when Prompto huffs. “What?”

“Any chance you can… you know… keep that on?”

“This?” Noctis makes an amused sound. “No way. Crap’s too heavy and bulky for this sort of thing.”

“You need to let me do a photoshoot one of these days,” says Prompto, failing to hide his pout. “For our private collection, of course.”

“That’d be hot,” Gladio says.

Noctis is less elegant while undressing, kicking off shoes and pants, wrestling the suit jacket and nearly ripping out buttons in his haste to remove his shirt. He does, however, pause to detach one of the golden chains that accessorize his raiment. “Never say I don’t take your kinks into consideration.”

Prompto holds perfectly still when Noctis approaches him, taking the chain and delicately wrapping it around his cock so that it dangles, loose enough to not hinder movement or hurt him in any way.

The gesture alone has Prompto quivering, on the verge of coming again, but Ignis is there pinching the base of his cock to keep him from doing just that.

“Fuck,” Prompto whines, “you guys are gonna be the death of me.”

Winking at Prompto, Noctis moves to the top of the bed. “Want to tell me why you’re really tied up?”

“Felt like it,” Gladio says. “Gonna wrap anything around my dick, your Majesty?”

Noctis lifts an eyebrow. He looks at Prompto, then back to Gladio. “His mouth, probably. Since the two of you were doing so great without us.”

“The plan was to have more than just Prompto’s mouth around it, but I ain’t sure if that’s still on the table.”

“Feeling adventurous today, are we?” Ignis says, dropping a kiss onto Prompto’s freckled shoulder. “Taking Gladio is quite the challenge.”

“Thanks for the second thoughts, Igster.”

Ignis plucks up one of his hands, kissing the back of it. “Nonsense. It is entirely possible with enough preparation and patience. I can assist you if you’d like.”

Prompto watches Ignis suck a finger into his mouth and he immediately curves it, toying with Ignis’ tongue and adoring how debauched the usually up-tight advisor currently looks. He slips his finger out just enough to leave the tip of it between his lips, and Ignis sucks it right back in with a filthy slurp.

“For the record,” Gladio speaks up, hips minutely thrusting up, “I’ve come dangerously close to blowing my load twice now, and my dick hasn’t even been touched yet.”

Ignis guides the fingers in his mouth down to his cock, silently urging Prompto to wrap them around it. He does, and Ignis sighs at the wet pressure.

That’s one thing Prompto respects about Ignis, his ability to take what he wants if and when he wants it. He’s all confidence, comfortable in his own skin, unashamed of his turn-ons and what it takes to get him off.

Prompto strokes his cock, tight at the head and loose at the base, flicking his wrist just so to make Ignis buck up into the touch. He swipes his thumb along the tip, collecting the moisture gathered there and smearing it along the length of him.

“That’s it,” Ignis says, his voice a smooth vibration Prompto can feel tickling the very base of his own dick. “You know how I like it, darling.”

The pet name draws a shudder out of him and Ignis knows this. He’s curling his hands on either side of Prompto’s face and pulling him in for a searing kiss that borders on tender if it weren’t for the way Ignis mock-bites every bit of his mouth.

Prompto loves kissing. It is his favorite of all the things they could possibly do together. He’s certain he’d be able to identify each one of them by taste and style alone, each having their unique attributes he adores.

But there’s something about the way Ignis kisses, how his lips demand and give in one fluid motion. He’s thorough, worshipful, and Prompto imagines that not even the Astrals know true divinity unless they’ve been kissed by Ignis himself.

He’s drawn away from the bliss when a warm touch lands on his cock. Noctis has sidled up to them, his own hand carefully working Prompto around the decorative chains that hang off of him.

“I should just put the entire raiment on you,” Noctis says. Nose pressed to Prompto’s shoulder, he bites down hard enough to leave a bruise. It stings, but Prompto can only let himself lean closer to him. “You look good enough to eat.”

“Capital idea, Noct,” says Ignis. The hand touching Prompto’s face now exploring his chest, trailing down to briefly meet Noctis’. “Perhaps lull him into a state of relaxation before we begin preparing him.”

“You’re the culinary expert,” Noctis quips.

Prompto doesn’t get the joke until he’s being pushed down by his shoulders, body flush against Gladio’s sweat-slick skin. He seals a kiss over one of his pecks out of lack of anything better to do, but his brain short-circuits the moment he feels something wet and hot swipe along the crevice of his cheeks.

Warm hands spread Prompto’s ass cheeks before Ignis settles between them, his tongue pressing against the tight hole.

The moan that drags out of Prompto expels what little tension he had coiled in his gut, and he lays limply on Gladio while Ignis lavishes attention on the one spot he never expected to have licked. He squirms with mild embarrassment, but the sight of Gladio and Noctis swapping spit inches from his face makes his cock throb with even more interest.

It’s difficult to keep still when Ignis’ tongue stiffens, pushes in just enough to have Prompto whimper with sheer bliss.

Noctis watches him despite his mouth being busy, the blue of his eyes darkening when Prompto manages to keep eye contact for a mere second before he’s rendered a mess once more. He has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep himself from coming apart at the seams, unraveling in the presence of the three men in this bed.

“You look so pretty,” Gladio says once Noctis moves on to kiss along his neck.

“Bet he’ll look cuter once he’s speared on your massive dick,” says Noctis, giving his own cock a fleeting stroke. “Or mine.”

“You’ve already had the honor, Majesty.”

“Once.”

“Once more than me.”

Noctis hums, lazily jacking himself off as he watches Prompto bite down on his lip and squirm. “Way too cute.”

“Come on, guys,” Prompto tries to say, but Ignis decides just then to _suck_ , and it’s like the life has been ripped right out of him.

Prompto cums with a gasp, hips jerking against Gladio’s hipbone and making a mess between both of their bodies. Still, Ignis doesn’t stop and he tries to crawl away but to no avail.

“Give him a sec, Iggy. He just creamed on me.”

Ignis acquiesces, pulling back to drop a kiss onto one of Prompto’s ass cheeks. “Good.”

“I require you eat me out at least twice a week,” Prompto says weakly, uncaring of the sheen of sweat that makes Gladio’s skin stick to his face. “Fuck. Fuck, your tongue is wicked good.”

“Not good enough if you’re still able to muster coherent sentences,” Ignis says, and his chuckle settles like electricity in Prompto’s thighs. “Noct, fetch me the lube.”

“On it.”

Prompto listens, eyelids too heavy to open as Noctis leaves the bed and rummages through one of his drawers. He pads back over, and Ignis expresses his gratitude with a long and drawn out kiss that leaves Noctis breathing heavily in the aftermath.

Astrals, Prompto loves this. He adores being among this cocoon of affection, safely kept in the embrace of the men he’s spent such a large amount of his life with. Prompto swallows the swell of emotion that makes tears prickle in the corner of his eyes because he loves them all so fucking much he doesn’t think his body can actually take it.

“Do you still wish to continue?” Ignis asks, ghosting the tip of his nose along Prompto’s spine. It’s a touch Prompto can’t tell if he’s imagined, the kind that makes anticipation bubble in his gut and his dick twitch despite being spent.

Prompto nods. “No backing down.”

“Atta boy,” Gladio says.

“Somebody suck Gladio’s dick,” Noctis says, “Guy looks like he’s about to pop a vessel.”

Shaking his head, Prompto is able to push himself up enough to offer Gladio a sharp stare. “No,” he says. Because, dammit, Gladio’s the one tied up for a reason. He’s the one that’s meant to be teased and pleasured, not Prompto. This was meant for Gladio, and instead, he’s the one being pulled out of his mind. “Big Guy doesn’t get to cum until he’s inside me.”

“I say we edge him,” Noctis says with a grin dark enough to get Prompto off again. “Blow your fucking mind when you blow your load in Prom, huh?”

The thin veneer of Gladio’s coolness cracks only slightly, a low growl lingering in his throat as he stares at Prompto with the ferocity of a wild animal.

“When’s the last time you came,” Noctis continues, “with your cock buried inside someone?”

“Last week,” Gladio answers, coolly. “You were bent over your throne, in case you forgot.”

Prompto’s head shoots up at this, eyes pinching through the haze. “No fair.”

Noctis shakes his head, his laugh breaking the momentary tension in the air. “What? You want to fuck me on the throne? Or, you know, me fuck you. Either or, it’s still a good time.”

There are a lot of fantasies that include Noctis and the throne, not all of them sexual. But that’s a tidbit Prompto would much rather keep to himself.

Before Prompto can retort he’s being pushed down again, his hips lifted so that he’s on his knees. The position strains his back, legs unsteady after the surprise orgasm, but the sensation of liquid warmth sliding over his hole makes him sigh.

Ignis pushes a finger into him and it’s as tight and weird as Prompto remembers it feeling. He still can’t figure out what to think of it. The idea of having things inside of him turns him on beyond belief, but the preparation part leaves something to be desired. Even if Ignis licks around his finger, tries pushing his tongue inside along with his finger—and Prompto is ready to lose his damn mind.

“Oh… oh, fuck.” Two fingers now, two fingers _spreading_ , _curling_ , _pumping_ in and out of him only to pause when Prompto goes quiet, granting him a moment to collect himself. He feels full, like he can’t take anymore, but then there’s another finger and Prompto chokes on a whimper.

He writhes, tries to simultaneously crawl away and push himself back onto Ignis’ hand. He moves his hips, humping air when his aching cock fills up again, desperate to shoot. But then something deep inside of him snaps, sharp and bright like electricity, and Prompto briefly wonders if Ignis has used magic.

It’s when he’s able to suck air back into his lungs, moan weakly, that he realizes his throat is sore.

“Louder,” Noctis commands into his ear, and Prompto sways. “I don’t think either of us caught that.”

Prompto shakes his head in his delirium, his head swimming when the pressure in his ass begins to ease into nothing but molten pleasure. It’s constant and unrelenting, the swapping of tongue and fingers, the seal of Ignis’ lips over the ring of muscle that mercilessly suck at it.

He wants more.

Suddenly, three fingers and a tongue aren’t enough, even if they pushed him past madness during that one accidental stroke against his prostate. Prompto wants more, to be stuffed to an impossible point.

Words he can’t make sense of are spoken around him, scattered chuckles that end as bruising kisses on his shoulders and chest. Prompto feels his face hurt from the constant grin that tugs at his mouth and cheeks.

In this haze of sex he feels like he has Ascended into the Astral realm, and Bahamut better not think about interrupting if he doesn’t want Prompto to obliterate his Holy ass.

Warm lubricant coats him all the more, making a mess of everything below his waist. Ignis is liberal with it, and Ignis is talking to him. Words of encouragement, he assumes, when he’s maneuvered to sit up on his knees again.

Prompto’s eyes are finally able to focus enough to see Noctis furiously pumping his cock before abruptly stopping with a frustrated growl, clenching the base of it with his own fist.

Gladio stares at Prompto with a hunger unlike anything he has seen before, and it is both flattering and terrifying. If he felt like doing so he could very well tear the belts and pin Prompto to the bed, fuck him until he’s screaming for all of Insomnia to hear, and Prompto would let him. Fuck, Prompto would beg him for it.

Behind Prompto, Ignis is still diligently working on getting him ready. He grips his hips and adjusts him over the blunt head of Gladio’s massive erection, holds him in place as Prompto trembles with anticipation.

“You need to relax your body,” Ignis says, the infliction of his speech wavering slightly. “Gladio is much bigger than my fingers, but there’s enough lube to make it far easier.”

“Oh, s-shit, fuck,” Prompto whimpers, reaching back to grab whatever he can reach. He settles for Ignis’ flank, fingernails digging into the defined muscles there. “ _Iggy_.”

“I’ve got you, love. If it’s too much, we can stop.”

Prompto breathes quickly through his nose as he’s eased down, the mushroom tip already spreading him beyond what he feels capable of. “Toomuchdefinitelytoomuch,” he rushes out, but rather than let Ignis pull him away, Prompto forces himself down.

The initial breach of the head now nestled inside of him has him keening, shoulders hunched forward as he wheezes through the searing burn and aches.

Soothing lips brush along his neck, gentle hands glide along his back, and Ignis praises him every step of the way.

It feels like forever as he kneels at an awkward angle, Ignis holding most of his weight as he gradually lets himself sink further and further down Gladio’s cock. Dexterous fingers work Prompto’s own cock, Ignis gently squeezing his balls to keep him aroused enough to make the stretch more bearable.

Below him, Gladio is straining against the belts with gritted teeth. His forehead glistens with sweat, his chest is heaving around thinly-concealed pants, and he looks about ready to lose himself.

“How’s he feel?” Noctis asks, his eyes never straying from Prompto’s form despite the question being aimed at Gladio.

“Fucking _tight_ ,” Gladio blurts out, as if keeping it in might kill him. “Fucking, _Shiva_ , he’s so _fucking_ tight.”

“And?” Noctis flicks one of Gladio’s nipples before getting on his knees.

“Hot. He’s tight and hot and soft and fuck me. Fuck yeah, you take that cock.”

Prompto stops midway through, his body at its limit.

It takes him a while before he’s able to slip almost all of the way off, then sink right back down with less effort than anticipated. The action makes Gladio grunt, a string of expletives making Noctis hum with pleased delight.

Three, four times, and Prompto grows confident enough to set a pace. It burns like no other, makes his hips scream, but each downward push takes Gladio deeper into his body and the thought of it hardens his cock still trapped in Ignis’ fist.

Prompto’s thrown off by the sight of Noctis flinging a leg over Gladio’s shoulders and slowly lowering himself to sit on his face. He body moves like a wave, the undulation of his hips a tease as he spreads himself for Gladio to taste. His brows pinch and then smooth out, lips parting on a soft gasp that forms into a husky chuckle.

“I like this throne a lot better,” he says, winking at Prompto.

It’s such a filthy and debauched spectacle that Prompto nearly comes if not for the hand still latched around the base of his cock. He does pitch forward, Noctis meeting him halfway to exchange saliva and bite at each other’s mouths, drinking up every hitched breath and deep moan that slips past them.

They kiss until their lips are sore, until spit dribbles out of the corner of their mouths only to be chased by feverish tongues ready to devour.

Prompto roughly shoves his hands into Noctis’ hair, forgetting his precarious position, in a desperate attempt to bring him closer.

He loves Noctis’ face, absolutely adores the softness of his blue eyes despite being a dauntless ruler. If Prompto could he would make his home in the cavern of Noctis’ chest, bring the others with him. He would die to protect him, to serve him, raze Eos to the ground if the gods so much as dared to entertain the thought of taking him away.

A kiss on his shoulder draws Prompto back, and Ignis’ unwavering gaze tells him that so would he. Without the need for words, that understanding is there.

Prompto wonders just what in the hell he did to find himself right here. So ruthlessly in love, so devoted. He wonders how the four of them found themselves in this bubble of sheer adoration.

Noctis drags Prompto’s mouth back to his, lapping and nipping as he rides Gladio’s tongue without mercy. All the while, Prompto gets that final push he needs to fully sit himself on Gladio’s glorious cock.

“Look,” Ignis says, making the three pause for a moment. Noctis lifts his hips enough to let Gladio catch a glimpse of Prompto’s legs being spread apart by Ignis, who smiles with pride. “Our Prompto has done so well.”

“I’m gonna last, at most, twenty seconds,” Gladio grits out, but whatever else he has to say is smothered by Noctis who deposits himself onto his face again.

“You look real nice,” Noctis says, luring him back over for another make-out session. One that’s interrupted by a stray cock slipping between their mouths.

Prompto snorts despite his predicament, but Noctis is nothing but a considerate lover when he brings a hand up to slowly jerk Ignis off while they continue to clumsily kiss around his length, tongues messily switching between mouths and a very nice cock.

Ignis groans, deliciously loud, as he stands by them on the bed. He has a hand on each of their heads, softly tugging on hair as he’s lavished with attention.

Noctis guides the cock into his mouth, takes it in with an ease born from experience. He suckles on the tip before taking most of it, bobbing his head and slurping loud enough to make even Gladio groan from below them.

Ignis pulls out to direct his dripping cock towards Prompto, who enthusiastically sucks hard and fast enough for the head of it to bump the back of his throat. He gags, coughs, and it’s messy when Ignis withdraws with a curse.

They make it a game of who can make Ignis cum first, tongues and lips pulling all the stops amidst laughs and broken moans.

His cock is slender but long, with an attractive curve that admittedly makes Prompto jealous. Noctis can swear it’s a lean, mean, prostate-hitting machine, and after today, Prompto is down to give it a ride. For now, he’s enjoying outdoing Noctis when it comes to taking the entirety of it into his mouth, letting it slip past the soft muscles of his throat as he deep throats Ignis.

“Bloody hell,” Ignis murmurs, just barely keeping himself in check and not reducing himself to face-fucking Prompto. “You’re exquisite.”

Noctis jerks him towards his face, nuzzling the crook where thigh meets groin.

“As are you, Majesty,” Ignis says, fondly.

It doesn’t take long for him to lose his self-control, hips twitching erratically as he pants quietly in the sea of noises they’re all making. Noctis and Prompto take their cue, both putting their mouths on Ignis’ cock when his body spasms, spilling across their faces with a noise meant to be a shout.

Prompto grins at the hot strings of cum over his face, the same cum beautifully staining Noctis.

“So messy,” Noctis says, wiping some up with his thumb and sucking it into his mouth.

“F-Fuck,” Ignis stammers, breath refusing to properly function.

Prompto moans in appreciation at the sound of the word coming from Ignis. It often takes so much to get the man to break. Prompto has never truly seen him lose all composure during sex, which makes him wonder just what it will take to get Ignis screaming when he cums.

He really wants to find out.

Prompto gasps in surprise when Ignis’ ingenious mouth latches onto his cock and sucks, dragging a groan right out of him. He pulls off Prompto to take Noctis into his mouth in turn and thus continues his game of delivering sweet torture onto the two of them.

Noctis wastes no time in yanking Prompto forward again, licking his face clean as he dances over Gladio’s face.

It’s too much.

It’s too much and Prompto can’t think of a better way to die aside from the sensory overload he’s experiencing.

With colossal effort, he bounces himself on Gladio’s cock, the air escaping his lungs as he does so. Too big. Too wide. But Ignis’s hot mouth is sucking on his dick with enough force to leave him feeling boneless. All the while, Noctis is kissing him with the fervor of a man possessed.

_Too much._

Prompto cums with nothing short of a scream, working himself on Gladio for as long as he physically can until his cock is spent, twitching in the confines of Ignis’ lips.

Ignis is quick to move, holding him up and fluidly undoing the constraints on Gladio’s ankles.

Prompto is nearly bucked off Gladio was it not for Ignis holding on to him. Heels dug into the mattress, Gladio uses it as leverage to plow into Prompto’s ass, fucking into him so hard and quick it nearly rattles his bones.

Holding fast, Prompto rides it out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head as the bundle of nerves inside of him is abused. He can’t take any more stimulation, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes, but it isn’t enough to wipe the grin off his face.

In front of him, Noctis is tugging at his cock with the intent of finishing. He watches, enraptured by the way Prompto is being taken. His fist flies over the head, squeezing just so, hips jerking as Gladio eats him out without stopping.

It takes Prompto wholly by surprise, the way Gladio’s pace stutters, a ferocious growl coming from underneath Noctis. Prompto jerks when Gladio shoots inside of him, hot cum filling him to the brim until it has nowhere to go but out of him.

Ignis is on Noctis just moments before he cums, taking the head of his cock into his mouth and swallowing down what Noctis offers.

Noctis rides it out, loudly, collapsing onto Gladio’s face when Ignis is there to catch him. His moans won’t stop as he throws his head back, the stuttering of his breath perturbed only by Ignis’ fingers sultrily pressing against the soft skin of his throat. “No need to waste the royal seed, Majesty,” Ignis purrs, licking the corner of Noctis’ mouth. “That would be a shame.”

The words die out to silence but for the cacophony of labored breathing.

Soon followed by the wet dislodging of bodies and the rustle of sheets.

It’s Ignis who dutifully removes the rest of Gladio’s binds, inspecting his wrists and commenting how they might have to purchase proper bondage gear if this is to be a repeating occurrence.

Prompto profusely apologizes time and again, but Gladio shushes him with a tender kiss. “I think we all got a little carried away here,” he says, easily moving Prompto along the bed and settling him down on the pillows. “Besides, getting tied up was my idea. I told you to get the belts.”

“I should’ve thought better of it,” Prompto argues, but his body is cooling down, and it hurts, so he tries his best not to move.

“No one is seriously injured,” says Ignis, “and that’s all the matters at the moment.” He’s about to leave the bed, maybe to get something to apply to Gladio’s wrists, but Gladio has other ideas. Mainly flinging him back into the bed with them.

“Quiet down, you heathens,” Noctis grumbles, half his face smooshed into a pillow where he’s half passed out already. He curls in on himself, fruitlessly searching for anything to cover himself with.

Gladio delivers, reaching over and grabbing blankets from the neatly folded pile on the chair by the bed. “Here you go, Majesty.”

Noctis makes a happy sound.

“I’m gonna feel like dying in a couple of hours,” Prompto comments, his lower body already protesting the mere idea of moving. “Does it, like, get easier the more you practice?”

“Definitely,” Gladio says without skipping a beat.

Ignis smacks Gladio’s arm. “In theory, but I recommend not overexerting yourself for a while. Allow your body to recover.”

“Planning on it.”

The three of them huddle against Noctis, who is softly snoring under his mountain of blankets. With entwined arms and legs, there’s at least a part of them that’s touching each other, and it’s a perfect end to what was probably the wildest rump Prompto has ever taken part of.

The bright orange and pale gray of dusk touches every corner of the king’s suite, slowly pulling them into blissful slumber. The Citadel’s crystalline windows shine as Insomnia stirs to waking for the oncoming night hours. Soon, the moon will take its place in the firmament, and they will all greet it in the same fashion they greet the sun at dawn.

Prompto watches until his eyelids are heavy, the sound of their collective breathing easing him into a smile he wishes to always share with the three so close to him. They are alive. They are safe. They are loved.

And that alone is enough to bring Prompto peace.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi over @ [tumblr](http://astramaxima.tumblr.com/)!


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